


The Smoke

by sinofwriting



Category: Machine Gun Kelly (Musician)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2021-01-24 20:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21343954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinofwriting/pseuds/sinofwriting
Summary: Rook knows the routine.
Relationships: JP Cappelletty | Rook/Reader
Kudos: 4





	The Smoke

“Hold my hand.” Rook murmurs as they begin to exit the car.

Gratefully, Y/N does. Tangling their fingers together, she squeezes them as she notices the crowd surrounding the car.

He turns his head, making it look like he’s pressing a kiss to her ear, when he’s really whispering to her. “Just keep on holding my hand.”

As they enter the crowd, fans surrounding them on each side, pressing into their space. Her hand tightens on his as her breathing becomes uneven. Her free hand goes up to the sunglasses that are on, keeping them their as she tilts her head down.

Getting into the building, she loosens her grip as soon as the industrial door shuts behind them. Pulling her sunglasses off, she stashes them in her pocket.

Ignoring the concerned looks of everyone, he leads Y/N into the bathroom. Locking the door behind them.

Rook squeezes her hand gently, when she tries to let go. With his free hand he reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a baggie and lighter. Using his teeth, he opens the bag. Letting the bag hang from his teeth, he pulls the joint from it.

His eyes meet Y/Ns when she pulls the bag from in between his teeth, wordlessly dropping in the trash. He squeezes her hand again as a silent thank you. Putting the joint between his lips, he lights it. Taking a drag, he holds it in for a few seconds before releasing the smoke.

Rook begins to offer the blunt to her when she lets go of his hand and wraps her arms around his waist. He puts his free arm around her, only lightly holding her against him.

“No sativa?” She asks.

He chuckles, eyes shining with happiness at the words that always came when this happened. “No sativa.”

Y/N doesn’t move away from him, instead tilting her head up, lips forming a pout. Taking a puff, he presses his lips against hers. Waiting until her lips open, to open his mouth and let the smoke pour out of his into hers. She holds the smoke for a few seconds, before slowly letting it leave. Rook watching as her body becomes less tense every second.

She presses a kiss to his cheek, before stealing the joint in his fingers. “Thank you.” She whispers.

“Thank you.” He responds, having no clue how she trusted him to help when her anxiety got to be too much.

Not being able to think of a response to his thanks, she kisses him, free hand grabbing his shirt to hold him tight against her.


End file.
